Ten.Two Thousand, Six Hundred & Twenty-Two
Enough light to make my way back on the trail.
Moderate.
Each one is taking. so. long.
We must find another way to say what we’re saying.
Three-way calls to save your sanity.
Voice notes to save your sanity.
I stare off into the distance and see the shadows of the Mayacamas against a graying blue sky. To my left, a strip of vineyard on a hilltop I’ve never noticed before. To my right, a large swatch of tall, verdant trees.
2024 Kongsgaard Albariño on ice. Ceviche, crudo, oysters, shrimp cocktail. I hold myself back from an order of fries.
There is this life and there is that life. Can’t I squeeze it all into one?
Hard to believe no one has died on these steps.